


Give Me Something

by eyesfixedonthesun22



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 09:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18150143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesfixedonthesun22/pseuds/eyesfixedonthesun22
Summary: Bucky’s worried you’re a bit burnt out. When you give him the silent treatment, it sends him into a full-blown panic.





	Give Me Something

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry to @bvcks 4.2K writing challenge. My prompt was “I need to know you’re alright, even if you’re not. Give me something.” Thank you so much for hosting this and letting me enter, Chelsea! This is one of my first attempts at something angsty. Thank you to my darling, @supersoldiersruined-me, for giving this a look over to make sure it wasn’t complete trash.

 

Bucky had woken before you, just like always. Before throwing the covers off, he steals a quick kiss to your temple. You shuffle and smoosh your pillow a bit after he leaves but remain sound asleep. His morning shower passes uneventfully. He finds himself grinning when he sees the pinkness of the skin on his chest in the steamed bathroom mirror. You always teased him that he liked his showers just shy from scalding.

Slipping on his training gear, he attempts to open and close the dresser drawers as softly as possible. He steals a final kiss to the top of your head before pouring his coffee and heading out for the day. It wasn’t uncommon for your day to start later than his; but he was surprised that you weren’t at least stirring when the brewing coffee smell permeated your shared apartment.

He knew you’d been working hard with your training. You’d had a couple really difficult missions recently. The past week each time he saw you spacing out and asked if you were okay, he was met with the response. “I’m just tired”.

Bucky makes a mental note to order takeout before coming back for the evening. Maybe it would be a nice stress relief for you. Upon second thought, he also schedules a massage at your favorite parlor for your next day off. Clearly, you were pushing yourself too hard.

* * *

 

Bucky’s morning run with Steve was pleasant enough. He had a couple hours of paperwork and mission debriefing before a session of hand-to-hand with Sam. Feeling like he’d had a productive morning, he realizes how hungry he is. He rounds the corner to the communal kitchen for lunch but collides with Clint.

“Cool it there, hot stuff.” Clint huffs, mock annoyed.

Natasha can’t help a chuckle at the two of them. They make small talk as they walk through the buffet.

“Where’s Y/N? She wasn’t in our morning survival class.” Nat asks as they settle in to their usual spots at the tables.

“I assumed she just slept in. She’s been really tired lately.” He shrugs and digs into his lunch with gusto.

“Yeah she missed some weapons demos too.” Clint adds.

Bucky pauses the rapid shoveling of food into his mouth; slowly lowering his fork down.

“She had a full morning schedule?” Nat and Clint nod. “What else was on her schedule this morning?”

“Steve had mentioned something about meeting up with her for some leftover paperwork from that mission in Chile.”

Something prickles at the back of his neck. He knows missing a couple training sessions and paperwork isn’t the end of the world.

He pulls out his phone and texts you first. “Hey babe. How's your day going? You feeling okay? Nat and Clint said you missed training.” Following his intuition, he fires off a similar text to Steve asking about your whereabouts.

Everyone goes back to eating. Clint and Natasha exchange hesitant glances, sensing Bucky’s unease with the situation. By the time lunch is finished Bucky is compulsively checking his phone every thirty seconds.

“Why aren’t they responding, guys?” Bucky pleads.

“I’m sure it’s fine, dude. Just give them a call.” Clint suggests.

Before the sentence is completely out of Clint’s mouth, Bucky is already punching the call button from his contact favorites. Your phone rings endlessly before going to voicemail. Steve is next. No response from him. Bucky swears the ring is cut short and deliberately sent to voicemail. He tries you once more, but it yields the same result. The second call to Steve rings twice before it clicks over.

“Steve, where is y/n? She’s missed training all day and I’m kinda worried.”

“Uhhh hey Buck.” He sounds distracted and muffled.

“Where is she?” he says cutting straight to the point. Normally he’d find the runaround from Steve amusing. He doesn’t often participate in pranks, but you manage to rope him into many tricks at Bucky’s detriment.

This time it doesn’t feel like a prank. Steve is avoiding him. Something had changed in the tone. Bucky had a sick feeling in the pit of his gut. Something was very wrong. After a long pause Steve responds again.

“She’s-”

Silence.

“Steve, I swear to god if you don’t fucking tell me where my girl is, I will beat the ever-living shit out of you.”

“She’s safe.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” His mind races. You didn’t have any missions planned for today. If you hadn’t attended training, then there was no way for you to have gotten injured. Safe from what?

“Tell him.” He hears your voice feebly in the background.

“Tell me what? Y/N?! Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Bucky she’s okay. Come on up to your guy’s apartment.”

* * *

 

On the elevator up, his mind is racing. An affair? No certainly not with his best friend. Then again, isn’t everyone blindsided by an unfaithful partner. You were pregnant? No. You two were religiously careful, on top of your birth control. You want to break up? Dead family member? Friend in crisis? What could it possibly be and why were you confiding in Steve and not him?

Bucky feels like he’s on autopilot walking up to the door. His feet have carried him, but he has almost no recollection of the steps. He knocks on the door, feeling overly formal considering you both live in the apartment. He hopes that his desperation doesn’t make them sound more like pounding.

No one answers for a minute, so he tries again.

“Y/N/N? Steve?”

His palms are clammy and numb. He reaches for the knob only to find it locked. His heart kicks into overdrive. He’s ready to knock down the door when he has an epiphany. Friday!

“Friday! Status for Miss Y/N?”

“Miss Y/N is currently located in your shared personal living quarters along with Captain Rogers. She is showing normal vital signs. Captain Rogers is the only person to have entered the apartment since your departure this morning. Shall I alert them to your presence?”

Before he can demand Friday to unlock the door, he hears a subtle click. Steve opens the door and slips out into the hallway.

Bucky doesn’t think just moves. In milliseconds, he has Steve pinned against the wall; his metal forearm pressed close to his windpipe.

“Tell me what’s going on. NOW!” He says surprised at the lack of composure and malice in his own voice. This is his best friend and he’s ready to rip him limb from limb.

“She’s okay Bucky!”

“Steve!” he growls pressing further and raising his fist, ready to strike.

Sensing his best friends’ desperation. “I’m trying to respect her privacy, Buck!” Steve says, finally pushing Bucky off him.

Bucky comes to his senses after hearing the tone in Steve’s voice. Steve isn’t a threat but the desire to punch his best friend is still nearly overwhelming.

“What the fuck is going on, Steve!?”

“Buck, I’m sorry. She’s gonna have to tell you herself. I can’t and won’t come between you two. All I’ll say is that she called me earlier this morning for help. I helped. I’m gonna go now.”

The rage Bucky felt for Steve was new and unfamiliar. He knew he was trying to help but it didn’t quell his desire to obliterate something. Watching his best friend leave with no more answers allowed the panic to rise once more.

He pounds on the door without abandon. “Y/N! Please, doll. You’re killing me out here. **I need to know you’re alright, even if you’re not. Give me something!”**

Though you were the one shut away, he felt like a caged animal. Pacing and standing watch in hopes the door would creak open. Bucky had resolved himself not to leave this door until you come out.

* * *

In the hour that had passed he had gone through the gamut of emotions. He’d gotten into arguments with Friday as she refused to unlock the door; your orders. He’d put three holes in the wall which he was sure Stark would chastise him for. Finally, he had crumbled to the floor in tears. He would sit in front of this door until he knew you were okay.

He’s drafting another text to Stark, asking for a way to work around Friday’s lockout, when a small piece of paper slips from under the door. _I don’t want you to see me like this._

Frantically he fishes into one of his numerous pockets searching for a pen. He quickly scribbles back. _Y/N, darling. I’m so scared. Please let me help._

He pushes the note back in the sliver of space under the door and once again resumes pacing. Your response doesn’t take long but he feels the waiting is taking years off his life.

_Promise you’ll still love me?_

The letters on the page swim. Abandoning the paper, he knocks on the door, lighter this time.

“Doll, there isn’t a single thing in this world that could make me stop loving you. Please, I’m begging.”

He hears the door click and then a small sliver of your shared apartment is available to him. He pushes the door open slowly in hopes you don’t change your mind and shut him out once more. Before he was ready to storm the door, but now he feels frozen by fear; unsure of what will greet him.

The apartment is dark. It looks just the same as he left it this morning. No coffee had been drunk since his cup. The remote for the tv still in the same spot he left it after watching the news. Your shoes hadn’t moved from the mat. No signs of struggle, break in, or anything of the sort; not that Friday wouldn’t have alerted him already. He checked the surroundings with meticulous precision as he cautiously approaches your bedroom.

Standing in the doorway, he sees you laying on his side of your shared king bed buried in the duvet. Your eyes are red and puffy, with dark circles below them, staring at the wall blankly.

“Can I come in, Doll?” Though it pains him to be separated from you, he knows he must ask your permission.

Your eyes move from the invisible spot of interest to finally meet his as you give him the smallest nod before he comes to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” You begin to sob as you reach for him. He lays down on the bed beside you. You bury your face in his chest. He can feel his shirt getting saturated from your tears.

“Darling, please. Tell me so I can fix it.” He whispers while stroking small circles into your back. It takes you awhile before the tears subside enough to speak.

“You can’t fix it, Buck. No one can.”

“I will do whatever I need-”

“I’m depressed…” You gauge his face for a response. “I have been for a while but this past week I’m having a really bad episode.”  You’re not sure what to expect. He kisses your forehead gently before stroking your hair behind your ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me, darling. You had me worried sick.” He’s nearly shaking with relief.

“I didn’t want to worry you. You have all your own stuff. You don’t need mine as well.”

His expression hardens. You’re expecting the hammer to fall. He certainly doesn’t deserve to deal with your mental health issues when he is finally starting to feel like his own recovery is successful.

“Sweetheart. You can’t hold all that in. We’re a partnership. What hurts you hurts me.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to-”

“No. Lemme stop you before you even go there. You’ve helped me through all my stuff. Let me support you through yours.”

“You’d do that?”

“Y/N, I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not one to bail when things get tough. I was ready for much much worse. I almost decked Steve.”

“I’m sorry.” You chuckle lightly at the image of the two best friends. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know, baby.”

“I’m sorry I called Steve before you.” He waits for your explanation. “I knew he went with you to some of your therapy appointments. I thought maybe he could help me figure out how to tell you.”

Bucky’s heart sores at the compassion his best friend has shown towards his girlfriend.

“I think I owe him an apology.” You giggle softly again, but he can tell your heart isn’t fully in it. “So… what feels wrong today?” he asks.

“Everything… and nothing.” He looks at you with more understanding than you expected.

“I get that, darling. Want me to set an appointment with the team therapist?”

“Yes, but not for today. Can we just watch a movie and cuddle right now? I’m sure I’ll come out of it in a day or so.”

“Of course we can.” He kisses your forehead again. “Have you eaten today?”

“No” you admit, disappointment clouding your features.

“Hey. I don’t mean that accusatory. Let me put in a frozen pizza. If it looks good you can nibble on it. But you do need to at least drink some water. Can you manage that, darling?”

You nod your head. You know Bucky can’t fix the depression. You know self-care isn’t always going to be this cute and cuddly; but right now, that’s okay. Right now, it’s what you need.


End file.
